Sunday, October 24, 2010

Chapter 7: Pretty Party

The party was for a girl who was around my age. Her name was Brittany. Miss Samantha handed me a present, and told to give it to the birthday girl. Miss Samantha introduced me to her friends and some of their daughters who were hanging around their mothers.

“This is Chris, he’s my new student,” all eyes seemed to be burning holes through me, questioning my wardrobe without uttering a word, and it made me nervous, “Now go give Brittany her present,” Miss Samantha ushered me away from the safety of her side.

Sheepishly, I did as instructed and walked toward the birthday girl.

“Why are you wearing a skirt?” she said in a judgmental tone looking down at my legs then directly into my eyes.

“It’s not a skirt, it’s a kilt. It’s what Scottish boys wear,” I countered with some vehemence.

“Are you Scottish?”

“No, it’s my…uniform.”

“Whatever,” she replied in a tone that seemed to buy my story a little bit, “It still looks like a skirt to me,” and she ran off to be with her guests, not wanting to be bothered with the boy in the skirt anymore.

After my initial introductions, it didn’t seem like I fit in with a lot of the kids, so I just moused around the periphery of the party. Trying not to seem too much like an outcast, I busied myself getting drinks or food, and walking to the less crowded corners of the property, feigning interest in things like the swimming pool or garden. As my mind wandered looking at the ripples in the water of the pool, a girl came up to me excitedly and said,

“Come on, we’re going to play a game!”

I turned around to look at her. She was pretty, with green eyes, and dark brown hair.

“Oh…you’re a boy.”

“It’s called a kilt. It’s my uniform for school. “

“Oh…well we’re playing a game for prizes if you want…in the clubhouse. Over there,” she pointed and ran away.

I don’t know if it was her sweet invitation, her smile, or the fact that I was kind of lonely for interaction with people my own age, but I decided to toss my last pebble in the pool and make my way to see what was going on in the clubhouse. At first, I looked on from the periphery and watched the game they were playing. It was obviously something that only interested the girls because no boys were even near this game. The boys were far away in the field behind the house throwing a ball around. Obviously I did not want to be around them in a skirt, so this felt a bit safer.

The girls sat on the ground in a circle. The game consisted of rolling five large novelty dice to meet certain requirements like “fives” or “pairs”. Each time, a few girls lost and were eliminated from the game. The last remaining girl in the game won a prize that Brittany pulled out of a decorative bag.

As I watched the first game come to a close, I was convinced to participate in the next game by the girl with the pretty eyes. I was hesitant, and pulled my kilt down to my knees as much as possible. Brittany introduced me to the girls at the game. The dark-haired girl – her name was Alexus - smiled at me. As the game began, I rolled the dice out of mere obligation, and wanted to be finished with the game. Soon, though, I was winning round after round. I was lost in the thrill of competition; all my anxieties melted away, and I was a kid having fun.

It was down to the last round. It was just the girl with freckles and me. I was handed the dice for my turn, but one of them happened to slip away from me. Instinctively and not thinking, I turned to reach for it, forgetting that I was wearing my kilt. All of a sudden I heard a gasp, and fear gripped me. Not looking back at them for a second, I hoped it wasn’t so, until I heard the girls giggling.

“Oh my god, are you wearing panties?” yelled one of the girls.

“I saw them too! They had pink ruffles.”

“I thought I was seeing something, but I saw it too!”

“Let’s see them!” yelled the freckled girl, and they all encircled me. I felt trapped in that clubhouse, and wanted to run away but I couldn’t. There were at least ten girls blocking the exit.

“I’m not wearing panties! That’s my…my…um…”

“Quit lying. We know what we saw.”

“It’s probably just a sock that got stuck or something,” was as good as I could come up with at the moment.

“We’re girls. We know what we saw. Now show them to us.”

“No,” I instinctively clutched my kilt by the sides, but this just signaled for them to start pulling up the skirt themselves. With so many hands working against me, I felt my skirt being lifted, and felt the air on my legs as my panties were exposed.

“Oh my god, he is! Look!” all the girls came in for a closer look.

“They’re so frilly!” one of the girls touched the ruffles with her fingertips.

“He’s really wearing girls’ panties! Oh my god!”

“I knew that wasn’t a kilt!”

They’re hands and eyes were everywhere, and I couldn’t break free. I thought it would have to end soon, and I would just go hide for the rest of the party. A few girls were whispering in the back, and then heard an announcement.

“Bring him up to my room,” said Brittany, “I want to play with him. This is much better than that stupid dice game.”

A few girls held my arms, and I struggled to break free, but was given a strong reprimand whispered in my ear.

“If you don’t do what we say, we’ll show your panties to everyone at this party. We’ll pull your skirt up in front of everyone.”

I stopped fighting out of fear that they would do it. We emerged from the clubhouse, and the day seemed calm. The sun was out, the adults talked and ate cake on the green lawn, and the boys were off playing football, but I was a hostage, and my head was pounding with stress. No one seemed to notice me being led away.

“Brittany, where are you girls going?”

A shiver went up my spine.

“I want to show them something in the house.”

“That’s fine dear, but don’t neglect your other guests.”

“I won’t.”

That was my last chance to get out of their clutches. These seemingly innocent girls marched me up to Brittany’s room, and I dreaded what was going to happen next.

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